Page:Smoke and steel.djvu/22

6 Fire and dust and air fight in the furnaces ; the pour is timed, the billets wriggle ; the clinkers are dumped: Liners on the sea, skyscrapers on the land ; diving steel in the sea, climbing steel in the sky.

Smoke nights now, Steve. Smoke, smoke, lost in the sieves of yesterday; Dumped again to the scoops and hooks today. Smoke like the clocks and whistles, always. Smoke nights now. To-morrow something else.

Luck moons come and go: Five men swim in a pot of red steel. Their bones are kneaded into the bread of steel : Their bones are knocked into coils and anvils And the sucking plungers of sea-fighting turbines. Look for them in the woven frame of a wireless station